ing fever,
during which time Natalie was buried, and the flowers that sprang up
on her grave were withered by the frosts and snows of winter. When I
at last became convalescent, and re-appeared amongst men, Natalie was
forgotten; and the strange circumstances that had occurred to me in
the church would have obtained no credence, or at most would have been
considered as the precursors of fever, the visions resulting from a
heated imagination and exhausted frame. Indeed my memory was in so
confused a state, and the weeks I had passed in the unconsciousness of
delirium, caused every thing that had previously happened to appear so
remote and indistinct, that I was myself almost unable to give any
clear and definite form to the occurrences that preceded my illness.
My health was greatly shaken, and I was no longer equal to any
occupation that required sustained exertion and application. I
resigned my commission, therefore, and formed a plan to divide my life
amongst the various large cities of Europe, changing from time to
time, and constantly endeavouring to seize again the thread that had
escaped me, and if possible to discover and unmask the vile impostor
who had destroyed my life's happiness. I may, perhaps, some day write
down the various and strange adventures that I have met with during
these researches, and in my wandering course of life. In this
portfolio, however, I will put nothing but what relates to any further
discoveries I may make concerning the base Italian and his
machinations.

* * * * *

Here Adrian's manuscript ended; but between the two following blank
leaves I found a letter dated from St Petersburg, written in a
different hand, and that seemed to form a sort of appendix or
continuation to the preceding narrative. This letter, from the
different dates scattered through it, appeared to have been continued
from time to time, several weeks elapsing between its commencement and
the period at which it was sent off. The envelope was wanting, and
there was no address; but, from its contents, it appeared that it had
not been written to Adrian, but to a friend of his who had handed it
to him. At the end came a dozen lines in Adrian's handwriting, leaving
off somewhat abruptly. Here follows the letter:--

_St Petersburg, 12th June._

My dear Augustus,--Of all the wealthy and distinguished
foreigners whom this gay season has b